Other Things Archives - Page 2 of 4

January 12, 2026January 12, 2026

LIfe Outside the Lines

a bouquet of winter greens and berries in snow — Winter greens and berries in the snow

I don’t make New Year’s Resolutions, but those of you who know me, know I’m a planner. I like to set goals and map things out especially at the beginning of a new year. Maybe it was those 37 years as an elementary teacher that honed this trait in me, or maybe I was born with this tendency. I like my life in neat little boxes like the ones in the teacher planning notebooks I filled in year after year.

But these past few months have taught me a lesson. Real Life doesn’t live in boxes.

In October, my mother passed away after a long battle with Alzheimer’s. Because it had been a long goodbye as we lost Mom bit by bit, I thought I would be prepared for the end. I was not. In that moment , and in weeks that followed, the universe as I’d known it shifted. In this new reality, I had no plans to follow, no guidelines for what to say or how to feel, no boxes to hide within.

With input from my siblings, I plunged into the process of planning Mom’s memorial service , agonizing over each detail: location, date, speakers, hymns, scriptures, flowers, obituary, photos, family dinner…. I realize now, it was my attempt to barricade myself from the pain, running back into my familiar space as I filled in boxes and checked items off of my list.

Everything was ready, then Real Life happened. The day of the service, a major winter storm hit Southern Indiana. In the hours before we were set to begin, the state highway department issued a travel advisory. The roads were slick and hazardous. Miraculously, my children and their families, and my siblings and their families arrived safely. The service would go on, but many other family members and friends called to say they would not be able to attend. “We’ll have to just go with the flow,” the pastor told me. I didn’t want to go with the flow, I wanted to row the boat.

As the music started, I made my way into the chapel and sat on the front row with my family. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and let the rich sound of familiar hymns wash over me. Beautiful eulogies from my nieces and siblings warmed my heart. When It was my turn , I spoke what was in my heart, my voice cracking when I reached the end:

“There will always be a bit of Mom that lives within me and in each of you, whose lives she has touched. Even now I can hear her saying ‘Go on now, take a chance, go for it, live your life to the fullest, and love with all your heart.’

Life outside the lines. That’s the way Mom lived. And in saying those words out loud, I made a promise to myself.

By evening, the snow had subsided transforming the city into a winter wonderland. Boisterous college students celebrated under the glow of holiday lights strung across the city streets. I took Ed’s arm as we navigated the slippery sidewalk to the restaurant where the family gathered. We celebrated Mom with food and drinks and stories and laughter. Exactly the kind of party she would have loved.

Threads of Thought

It’s not easy for us to talk about death, and grief takes many forms. For me, writing helps. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to share.

For those caring for someone with a terminal illness or grieving a loss, I would recommend the book: Nothing to Fear by Julie McFadden (hospice nurse)

“Moments Bloom Into Words” and I love to write about all of life’s adventures.

To find my books, click here.

Out of the Crayon Box and Until Italy Books

June 23, 2025June 23, 2025

il Dolce Far Niente

The Sweetness of Doing Nothing

It’s that time of year in Arizona. Triple-digit temperatures force me to take my walks at a ridiculously early hour and schedule errands for the morning. I slather on sunscreen, wear a hat, guzzle water. The ‘dog days of summer’ drain my energy and force me inside for a good part of the day. I feel like doing nothing. Blah.

This goes against my nature. I like to stay busy. I’m a ‘producer’, one who makes things…you know: sew a garment, write a story, create a blog post. I’m schedule and routine oriented and not particularly good at “doing nothing.” So now what? The weather is out of my control. Maybe I need to change my attitude. The Italians have a saying:

il dolce far niente

In English it means “the sweetness of doing nothing,” but it sounds way better when you say it in Italian. Try it: eel dough-chay far nee-in-tay. Isn’t that beautiful?! Now say it with an Italian flair. Bonus points if you come up with hand gestures to go with it.

Il dolce far niente isn’t about laziness, but rather it refers to enjoying relaxing moments without a specific purpose or goal, finding contentment in simple activities, slowing down to appreciate the small joys in life. Though not a new idea, the term has been popular in social media circles lately, perhaps as a result of our increasingly fast-paced, crisis-mode-world we find ourselves in these days.

Benefits of il dolce far niente include:

reduced stress and anxiety
enhanced creativity
improved mental clarity
deeper self-awareness
new perspectives

Who wouldn’t want this,

But how?

The planner in me wants to immediately make a list, schedule times to relax, research activities (actually, that’s what I did when composing this post). But stop! Doesn’t doing something so I can start doing nothing kinda go against the philosophy here?

Maybe the place for me to start is to shift my mindset around productivity, taking moments in my day to daydream, breathe, pick up the guitar I haven’t used in decades and strum a few chords, enjoy that cup of tea without rushing on to the next item on my “to do” list.

And as for my writing life:

I’m working on finishing the rough draft of my next story and, of course the producer in me wants to see this through the editing, revisions, formatting, publishing. It’s a lot. Yet perhaps, the best thing I can do for my writing is to step away from it from time to time for some dolce far niente moments.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to click “publish” and and do nothing, nothing at all. Sweet.

Threads of Thought

Your turn! Stop, step away from your computer or phone.

Now do nothing…. ahhhh….

By the way, reading is a great way to have a dolce far niente moment. Try one of these! Available in paperback, eBook, and Kindle Unlimited.

2 Books, Out of the Crayon Box: Thoughts on Teaching, Retirement, and Life...and Until Italy: A traveler's memoir

June 9, 2025June 9, 2025

On Eagle Bay

It was autumn of 1999 when I first met Eagle Bay. My father walked out on the deck and looked at the brilliant Indiana foliage surrounding the water.”You can look all you want, but this is the place,” he said to my mother. Soon after, my parents purchased the small condo overlooking Lake Monroe. It was to be their retirement/vacation home.

After Dad died and Mom could no longer care for the property, she deeded it to my siblings and I. Throughout the years, it has been a gathering place for my parent’s children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Each season brings its own unique personality. Memories are made.

When autumn foliage fades and drops, stark white sycamore trees reflect on icy water. Ed and I arrive from Arizona. I get the tabletop Christmas tree out of the closet and set it up in the corner of the dining room to celebrate the holidays here with our children and grandchildren. We take steaming mugs of coffee and hot chocolate out on the deck hoping to glimpse the eagle family nesting across the bay. We fill the birdfeeder and watch cardinals, bluejays, chickadees, and nuthatches feast. The new year comes and we toast with champagne before heading back to our respective homes.

In spring, gentle rains come and trees explode with baby green leaves. Deer saunter around the community, thinking the carpet of lush grass is a banquet set out just for them. The weather is fickle this time of year. Suddenly the sky darkens and fierce winds whip whitecaps on the water. Tornado sirens wail, the lights flicker, then the power goes out, but we’re safe.

Memorial Day weekend signals summer on the lake and pontoon boats fill the bay. Music blares as partygoers drop anchor and settle in for an afternoon of swimming and sunbathing. The leaves on the trees are so thick they almost block the bay from view. I take a glass of iced tea out and settle on the porch swing. We’ll fire up the grill for brats and burgers and later pour a glass of wine to watch the sunset. At dusk, the trees sparkle with fireflies, and on a clear night, a full moon sends a ripple of light across the bay.

Season after season, twenty-five years pass by. Children grow up, move away, start families of their own. Priorities shift, maintenance issues arise, cross-country travel becomes more difficult, and visits to Eagle Bay become fewer.

It’s time. We were blessed with this gift from my parents for a long time, now we release it with gratitude.

I walk out on the deck for one last picture only to find the bay has hidden itself behind a thick curtain of morning fog. I smile at its closing act. Like the fade-out scene of a really good movie, I’m left with warm feelings. I realize now, it’s not about the rooms, the porch, the water. Those were the backdrop, the setting for the love we shared and the memories we made here.

This, this is what I pack up, all of it. I lock the door then, taking Eagle Bay with me.

Threads of Thought

Leaving a home, can be difficult. I’ll be honest, I’m still struggling a bit with this one. But, I’m choosing to focus on the future and what’s best for all. Who knows what new possibilities await for me, my family, and Eagle Bay?

What have you experienced when leaving a place you’ve called home? What advice would you give to others facing this?

“Moments bloom into words”

As a writer, I use words to help me process feelings and situations I find myself in. In OUT OF THE CRAYON BOX, I explore the emotions I experienced when leaving the teaching profession after a long career in education. UNTIL ITALY will take you along with me on a humourous, introspective trip to Italy!

You can find my books here

March 3, 2025March 3, 2025

Deb Speaks Out

I’m stepping out of my comfort zone and speaking out. Full disclosure: this is not a political post. I will not mention “sides”, we are all in this together. The decisions being made and the changes that are occurring affect us all. This post is about coping. Finding a way to live our lives as honest, respectful, loving people in the midst of chaos.

Last week hit me particularly hard. I’ve felt anxious, depressed, hopeless, and yes, hateful. It’s Monday morning and I’ve decided I’m not going to live my life this way. I cannot continue down this path. So I decided to do something.

Among other things, I’m a writer. I use my words to help me figure things out. I’m also a former teacher and as such, I made a list, or maybe just some Monday morning musings, and I’m sharing my thoughts with you.

Self-Care

I’m realizing we are in this for the long haul. This is a marathon, not a sprint, and I need to make sure I’m taking care of myself. I know the drill…exercise, sleep, drink water, nourish my body. Ok, this last one may be tough. I’m a stress-eater and carbs are my go-to. Friday my critique group came over and we had cookies. I ate two that morning, then nibbled on them the rest of the day. By evening there were only two left. I finished them off with a glass of wine. So, yeah. I gotta work on that.

Meditation/Journaling

I’ll admit, when I get busy this often gets placed on the back burner, but now, more than ever, I need to reestablish this morning routine. This practice helps me to sort out my feelings, center myself and puts me in the right frame of mind.

Spend time in nature

This morning I took my fruit and yogurt (see? healthy!) and had my breakfast outside. From my backyard I have a glimpse of The Catalina Mountains and they have a calming effect on me. They’ve weathered wildfires and monsoon storms. “You will survive this,” they seem to say. No mountains where you live? Go for a walk in the woods or around your neighborhood. In many places, the long, dark winter is being replaced by signs of spring. Nature is telling us to have hope.

Limit time on social media, news programs, newspapers

This is tricky for me. As a self-published author, social media is part of my marketing. But, I can try to limit my time and avoid going down the rabbit hole. Maybe I’ll give myself a time limit and avoid picking up my phone when I’m bored or have down time.

I want to limit my time, but I don’t want to avoid the news altogether. I tried that for a while, creating an artificial cocoon around myself. Now I think it’s important to be informed. It’s getting harder and harder to find reliable sources, but I’m going to try to find out as much as I can about an issue before I react. Once I have the facts, the truth to the best of my knowledge, I’m going to:

Take a Stand

This is still a democracy. My voice matters and there are many ways to be heard. Instead of ranting and raving and worrying, I plan to select issues that are important to me and set aside a block of time each week to call my representatives. We elected these people to be our voice in Washington. They need to know what their constituents are thinking and their votes should reflect this.

There may come times when I will be moved to join in and hit the streets. On Saturday, a group of people made signs and gathered at Saguaro National Park to support our national parks. (Saguaro National Park here in Tucson recently announced that their visitor cententers will be closed on Mondays.)

There are ways to take a stand. Together we can make a difference.

And finally…

Seek Joy

On a recent podcast, I heard this quote:

“We cannot be a joyless people. We cannot sustain ourselves. We will not last long.”

Some days, it’s going to be hard to find joy in the midst of this chaos, but we must. Yesterday as I entered one of the big box stores, I heard l hammering and children’s voices. Following the sound, I found dozens of children and parents making birdhouses. JOY. Later, Ed and I were having lunch at our favorite pizza place (still carb-loading, I know…). When I looked out the window, I saw a man walking with his young son. They were holding hands. JOY. This morning the bouquet of alstroemeria on my kitchen counter had burst into full bloom. JOY. It’s still out there. Find it.

Thanks for reading this longer that expected post. Take care, my friends.

Deb

Threads of Thought

This was a difficult post for me to write. My heart is racing and, at times, I was blinking back tears. Deep breaths. Click. Publish.

Now it’s time to start my week and put my plan into action. (and we’re out of cookies)

Visit my author’s page here

February 17, 2025February 16, 2025

The Lemonade Stand

When life gives you lemons…

The news wasn’t good. The the world we live in seems to be in a constant state of crisis these days. Facts mingled with falsehoods make it difficult to discern the truth. For many months, I’ve had my head in the sand. When I finally emerged, I found the sand was shifting beneath my feet.

Besides that, I’d just returned from a trip to Chicago to visit my mother. My family is facing some challenging days ahead.

I needed to take a walk and clear my head, reset my mind, try to find something, anything positive to focus on. Cue the weather. It was a beautiful February day in Arizona. Cobalt-blue sky (No, the above photo is not filtered…that is the actual sky color as seen from my backyard) with temps in the mid 60s.

When life gives you lemons…

a box on a wooden bench with a sign that reads: Lemons, Help yourself

The box was empty. I was glad someone had taken all the lemons. This is citrus season in Arizona, and the neighborhood trees are heavy with fruit. If the harvest isn’t picked, it falls to the ground and is wasted.

I’d just reached the neighborhood playground when a young, tousle-haired boy (about kindergarten age) came running up to me.

“Want some lemonade?” he shoved a green plastic cup towards me.

“Oh, well…I didn’t bring any money with me, ” I said.

“That’s OK! You can have it for free!”

I followed the boy to the shelter house where four other children were gathered around a picnic table set with a pitcher and more of the green cups. One of them held a makeshift sign fashioned from a piece of salvaged cardboard. “LEMONADE $1.00” was scrawled in thick black marker.

An older boy poured me a glass and it was delicious! I asked if they’d made it themselves.

“Yes!” a girl said. “We saw this box of lemons and they were free and we decided to make lemonade and we squeezed the lemons and put in some sugar and water and now we are selling it!”

“We saw a lot of people taking a walk and we thought it was kinda hot outside and people would be thirsty and would want some lemonade!” The older boy said.

“I’ll tell you what. This lemonade is so good, I’m going to finish my walk, then I’ll stop by my house, get some money and be back.” I said.

A Lemonade Moment

I finished my walk with a smile on my face. Back home, I got $5 and returned to the lemonade stand. “One dollar for each of you,” I said. “Wow! Thanks!” The older boy grinned and put the money in a plastic bag that had a few other bills in it. As I was leaving, the little guy I’d first met was running up to a woman checking her mailbox. “I don’t have any money with me,” I thought I heard her say. I’ll bet she goes in and gets some. How could she resist?

So here’s what I’ve decided. I’m going to find one thing each day that makes me smile and warms my heart, a lemonade moment, to help me remember to take time to replenish my mental, emotional, and physical energy. I’m going to need it, maybe we all are, for the days ahead.

Threads of Thought

Have you had your “lemonade moment” today? Share it with us! Let’s start a lemonade moment movement!

Meet the Author!

I’ll be signing books at the 2025 Tucson Festival of Books on March 15 from 1:30-4:30. Not local? No Worries! Find your copies here!